Tuesday, July 7, 2009

you're welcome.

I did it. Finally. No thumping. No beestings. No giant yellow spots. No rolling them down the aisle, observing which way they veer. Nope. Armed but with one simple, but life-changing, bit of wisdom, I picked possibly the most delicious watermelon I've had in...well, since I can remember. I cannot, for the life of me, remember who told me the key to picking a delicious watermelon, but it was someone with whom I was speaking recently (which, given how much I flap yappers, could be quite a number), and, actually this has been a pressing topic for me one numerous occasions.

See, I am tired of buying a watermelon, bringing it home, cutting into it (with Donovan asking, "Is that a machete?" Um...no. But that might work better than my chef's knife...), and being disappointed. Most of the time, they're just ok. Like, a nice change of pace, but certainly not something I'm pulling out just to nibble on. And then there's the occasional pointless watermelon - like a sno-cone without the flavoring. Pointless.

And what's with the dearth of seeded watermelons? I remember when there were watermelons and these seedLESS varieties were just coming on the market (right about the time I think they were trying to engineer square tomatoes - but I'm still waiting for those to catch on). Is it just me or did those watermelons (with seeds) look a lot darker pink/red inside? And subsequently be juicier? Why are we anti-seeds? And their shape is much more pleasing - a lovely watermelon-shaped shape. Not this oversized bowling ball.

But perhaps I don't need the seeded variety for deliciously mouth-watering watermelon. The kind that you take the biggest bite out of, so as to fill your entire mouth, only to have your teeth and tongue all crush it at once, letting the juice flood your mouth, keeping your lips shut tight so it doesn't dribble down your chin. The kind that you cut into bite-sized squares and keep in the refrigerator, to munch on when it's hot outside and you want something cool and sweet. The kind that sends your 1-year-old into a round of applause when she sees you pull it out of the fridge. The kind that, after the initial pierce of the knife, splits in half all on its own because it is so swollen with juice.

What's that? You'd like to know this secret? I'll tell you. The key is...

get it from Texas.

No, don't GO to Texas. And don't order it online. Just check the stickers on them. My local grocery store had ones from Texas, Mexico and California. Get the one from Texas. I rarely have good things to say about Texas (other than the people I know there who hardly qualify as Texans - you know who you are), mostly because they like to go out of their way to point out how much better Texas is than anywhere else. But in this instance, it is well-earned. Except, if you go to the grocery store in search of one, and you bring your kids and they want to help so they start pointing at different ones, maybe you shouldn't loudly say, "No - we don't want those. Those are Mexican watermelons. We don't want MEXICAN ones. We want one from TEXAS." Because that makes you sound food-racist.

You're welcome.

4 comments:

wanda said...

Can't wait to try a Texan watermelon when I get home. Looks delish!

Angie said...

THANK YOU!!!! I've struck out on the last 5 watermelons and was about ready to give up...

jessica said...

I think it was Alicia that said buy Texas.

Sarah Burgoyne said...

I've just added Texas Watermelon to my grocery list :)